


Coming Home (I always knew it was you)

by TheConfusedScientist



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: BUT there's a reason why i consider this a fix-it, F/F, both of them are sort of dead, good ending, i must warn you though, i was emotionally destroyed by that episode, it's also extremely cheesy, lexa will forever live on in our hearts, so i thought why not, try to fix it a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 02:38:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6176878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheConfusedScientist/pseuds/TheConfusedScientist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘In the way of your earthly body, yes, Clarke. You died a hero and you will be remembered as one forever. You’ll live on in the hearts of your people, like I lived on in yours.’ She’s so close now. </p>
<p>‘What is this then? What are we? Are we in another City of Light?’ Clarke asked, trembling, aching with the need to touch and feel, and see her again (it’s always been her, her, her), still not turning around, watching over Polis through the large windows, still not believing in a possibility where they end up together. </p>
<p>or</p>
<p>What happens when Clarke Griffin dies and someone familiar is on the other side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home (I always knew it was you)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! If you like me were taken completely off-guard by that unnecessary *KHM KHM LAZILY WRITTEN* plot twist, you can join be in my ball pit of misery!

She’s been on this earth for 65 years. Her golden hair is streaked with gray and her face is riddled with lines, but she’s still the same. The same blue eyes, the same presence that demands respect and authority and the same spirit destined to seek peace and heal, too big for her body (too big for the earth).

She’s a legend now. Everybody knows her name. Mothers whisper it to their children at night, telling them of her ventures, her losses, her long fight for peace. Clarke kom skaikru, they would say, the title of Wanheda forgotten after the victory over ALIE. With the destruction of the City of Light and the residual code of the AI (it felt like Clarke’s soul was lost that day too) that brought the world to its knees a century ago, Clarke started working on strengthening the coalition and bringing the long awaited rest to the people of the 13 clans (their people). 

Clarke, whose father was killed, because she couldn’t keep a secret. Clarke, who was sent to a possibly uninhabitable earth with a bunch of kids when she was only seventeen. Clarke, who had to take on leadership and make awful decisions and still watch her friends die. Clarke, who made an alliance with people that had tried to kill them since they landed here, at the price of her first love. Clarke, who finally found her equal, someone who understands, someone who loves her, a girl so tragically beautiful and strong only to have her die in her hands with the whisper of Clarke’s name on her lips. Clarke, who lost everything and everyone, but found the strength to keep going and do what must be done. Clarke, who died at 65, leading a rescue party to a village attacked by a pauna. 

She died protecting Octavia’s son. Jumped in front of him and tried to shoot the monster (like all those years ago, with her), but it was too quick and threw her against a boulder head first. It was fast, almost painless. Clarke was gone before she hit the green ground (green like her eyes) and everything was dark until it wasn’t. 

The light was blinding and Clarke struggled to open her eyes. 

‘Wha-’

‘It’s okay. You’re safe.’

That voice. Her voice. 

‘You’re dead.’ said Clarke, her eyes still not adjusting to the brightness of the room. 

‘Always so observant, Clarke.’ The way she said her name always, always, always made her heart skip a beat. 

‘Lexa.’ Clarke wanted to cry and laugh, and scream. How could this be happening? This couldn’t be real. She said her goodbyes in the city of Light, when she held Lexa to her chest and let her tears soak her hair. When she touched her face and tried to memorize every detail. When she destroyed that place and watched her disappear again (she saw it again and again and again in her dreams). It’s been more than 47 years, but it still hurts like that day in Polis. 

Clarke finally opened her eyes. The first thing that hit her were her surroundings. She was in the Polis tower. In her room, Lexa’s room. The sunlight of the sun at dusk was streaming in through the windows basking everything in a warm, orange glow. There were the candles, the couch, that beautiful bed. Every single small detail she thought she had forgotten. It brought pain mixed with relief and tears.

The second thing Clarke acknowledged was how young she was. Her back didn’t ache, her hands were soft (not rough and scarred over in so many places), her face was almost creaseless and she felt like bursting with energy and so many emotions. She knew Lexa was in the room. She could feel her presence and it felt real and safe, like home, but it seemed too good to be true. Clarke thought that if she turned around, she’d disappear like every single time in her dreams.

‘Don’t be afraid. I’m not going anywhere this time.’ Her voice was soft and cautious, and so close Clarke could practically feel her warm breath on her neck. 

‘But you’re dead and I’m imagining things. This isn’t real. You’re gone.’ Clarke was getting angry. Her mind never tortured her for this long and it never felt this real, but then it hit her and she almost choked. ‘Am I dead?’

‘In the way of your earthly body, yes, Clarke. You died a hero and you will be remembered as one forever. You’ll live on in the hearts of your people, like I lived on in yours.’ She’s so close now. 

‘What is this then? What are we? Are we in another City of Light?’ Clarke asked, trembling, aching with the need to touch and feel, and see her again (it’s always been her, her, her), still not turning around, watching over Polis through the large windows, still not believing in a possibility where they end up together. 

‘No, Clarke. I don’t know what to call this place. I just know that I felt at peace here with you. I wanted to stay here forever.’ She puts her arms on Clarke’s waist from behind and Clarke sobs, leaning in, relishing in the familiar warmth and softness, and love (she’s always loved her). ‘Our spirits found each other here and it feels like I’ve always known this would happen.’ 

‘We meet again.’ Clarke chokes out before turning around in Lexa’s arms. She’s there. She’s really there. In all her beauty and strength and power. Lexa was there and Clarke couldn’t breathe. Another wave of tears hits her when she sees her eyes (they haunt her in her dreams, always lifeless, empty, dead), her forest green eyes so alive and sparkling with tears (like that day when Clarke kissed her and she looked like she couldn’t believe her luck, like she’d been waiting for an eternity for her, like she would wait forever for her). 

Clarke raised her hands and gently cradled her face. She couldn’t believe how beautiful and real, and alive she was. She traced her eyes, her nose, her lips with her fingertips, moving down to her neck, her collarbones, her beautiful curves. She starts shaking even more, crying harder now, but for a different reason.  
‘You’re here.’ Clarke keeps repeating and Lexa pulls her into a bone crushing hug. Lexa pulls her as close as she can, kissing her hair and shoulders and whispering I’ll never leave again over and over. Clarke clings to Lexa and Lexa pulls her impossibly closer. Two old souls finally at peace, finally together.

Clarke’s not sure when it happens and who started it, but they’re kissing now and it’s slow and tender. The air is heavy with all of the words yet unsaid, but they have time. They have a forever. There’s no need to rush. No impending war. No threats. It’s just them, together, again. 

Lexa leads them to the bed and Clarke takes of their clothes. They make love like they’ve known each other’s bodies forever, softly, but with great intensity. They fit together perfectly and it feels so good, so right, so safe. 

Afterwards they both lay in the huge, intricately decorated bed, holding each other close, but not because they’re afraid to let go, but because they can and so they do. It feels like forever since either of them spoke (and maybe it is, but that’s okay), so when Lexa gently turns her head and says something Clarke jumps a little bit.

‘I never got to tell you how much you mean to me.’ 

‘I knew.’ Whispered Clarke, tracing her fingertips on Lexa’s back (just like then). ‘But I always wondered if you knew that I loved you. If you knew how awful those next three years were without you, how much it hurt every time someone as much as said your name, how I cried almost every night after you died. I missed you so much, Lexa.’ Clarke felt tears stinging her eyes again.

‘Come here. You’ll never have to miss me again.’ Lexa pulled Clarke closer and they stayed like that up until their eyes got heavy and minds sluggish.

‘I love you, Clarke of the Sky People. Yu gonplei ste odon.’ whispered Lexa before falling asleep.

‘Ai hod yu in, Lexa.’ Said Clarke closing her eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry if this fic wasn't good, it's my first time writing fanfiction and posting it, so if it's too slow or clumsily written, I apologize. I love Clarke/Lexa so much it actually pains my heart every time i think about them now, so I had to get this off my chest. I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
